


bring me the one i really need

by likebrightness



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, PWP, all i want for christmas is this ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9038486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebrightness/pseuds/likebrightness
Summary: So. Cat is here. That’s fine. It’s good, really. Kara missed Cat. As a— as a mentor. Kara missed her as a mentor. Because that’s all Cat is to Kara. It doesn’t matter how often Kara has imagined kissing Cat, doesn’t matter how Kara’s heart skyrocketed that last night on the balcony, as Cat’s finger brushed against her arm. Cat is her mentor, and that’s it. And so it’s good that she is back. Kara could use some advice about reporting.
or, Cat goes down on Kara while All I Want for Christmas is You plays in another room





	

-

Cat comes back for the Catco holiday party.

Kara doesn't know. She doesn't know until she's getting herself some punch, looks up and sees Cat Grant in the middle of a crowd of people, apparently telling a captivating story, given how everyone is watching her. Kara pours punch all over her hand.

She cleans it up without anyone noticing, she’s pretty sure, but she still feels shaky, feels like she’s going to spill her entire glass, like she’s going to trip over her own feet, like she’s going to accidentally use freeze breath. She looks at Cat again and Cat is looking back, and Kara flees. She doesn’t think, just sets down her cup and escapes to the nearest private area she can think of—an executive bathroom she definitely shouldn’t be in. No one should be in it, actually; Kara only knows about it because she booked this venue, when she was still Cat’s assistant. She booked this venue and Cat would never host a party somewhere she would have to share a bathroom with anyone, so Kara found a place with a private executive bathroom. That’s where she goes, heart racing, hand still sticky with punch. It’s close enough she can still hear the music playing at the party, but far enough away she feels like she can breathe.

So.

Cat is here.

That’s fine. It’s good, really. Kara missed Cat. As a— as a mentor. Kara missed her as a mentor. Because that’s all Cat is to Kara. It doesn’t matter how often Kara has imagined kissing Cat, doesn’t matter how Kara’s heart skyrocketed that last night on the balcony, as Cat’s finger brushed against her arm. Cat is her mentor, and that’s it. And so it’s good that she is back. Kara could use some advice about reporting.

Kara leans against both hands on the counter, hangs her head. She’s supposed to be a superhero, and she’s hiding in a bathroom. She’s supposed to be a superhero, supposed to have superhearing, but she doesn’t know anyone is nearby until the bathroom door opens to Cat, looking completely unimpressed. Kara jerks upright, turns the water on to wash her hands.

“Didn’t want to say hi?” Cat says.

“I, um, spilled punch, Miss Grant,” Kara says, trying to gesture to her hands and wash them at the same time. “But it's good to see you.”

Even after all these months, even only seeing her through the mirror, Kara can tell Cat doesn't believe her. Her facial expression barely changes, but Kara can tell. Cat comes fully into the bathroom now, and she locks the door behind her.

Kara has no idea why she does that.

“How have you been?” Kara asks, turning off the water and reaching for a hand towel. This bathroom is so fancy it doesn’t have paper towels. “You’re— diving? Yeah?”

Cat gives a half-roll of her eyes like she can’t believe Kara remembers that pep talk.

“Not being at Catco is...freeing,” Cat says.

Kara tries not to take the words personally. It’s not like Cat left _her_ , really. Even if Cat were still the head of Catco— Kara wouldn’t see her that often. She sees James because James is her friend, but she doesn’t have to go to content meetings anymore, doesn’t arrange anyone’s calendar or bring anyone a latte in the morning. Which is good, it’s good, Kara likes being a reporter. She doesn’t miss being an assistant; she just misses _Cat_ , and when she lets herself be selfish— which she almost never does— she feels like maybe Cat did abandon her, just a little. Pushed her off a cliff into a new job and didn’t stick around to see if she hit any rocks on the way down.

“Have you figured out how to handle Snapper yet?” Cat asks and Kara stops letting herself be selfish.

“He’s not terrible,” she says, “as long as you have the drive to do something yourself. But…he’s not exactly mentor material. I love my job in spite of him, not because of him.”

Cat _hmm_ s. “And when you were my assistant, was that different?”

Kara tries to cover. “Of course, Miss Grant,” she says. “You are an excellent mentor. You always pushed me to be better— you weren’t mean for the sake of it; your critiques were for the most part relevant and helpful, except for maybe a few about my fashion sense.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Kara,” Cat says, very deliberately looking her up and down. Kara flushes. “You seem to have learned something about fashion given this dress.”

“Thank you, Miss Grant,” Kara says quietly.

Cat has moved closer, throughout this conversation. She is— she is too close, a step away, and Kara can see the different colors of her irises, can see the lines her makeup mostly covers, can see that she looks tired and...uncertain, maybe? Kara’s never quite seen that expression on Cat before.

“What are you doing?” Kara asks. Cat takes a step back. “I mean, wherever you are. Wherever you’ve been. Now that you’re free of Catco.”

Cat makes a show of checking her makeup, like she was never moving close to Kara, just close to the mirror. It makes Kara mad, suddenly. Cat followed her into a private bathroom and is now pretending she has better things to do than even look at her.

“A bit of everything,” Cat shrugs. “Oprah may have finally convinced me to write a memoir.”

“Right,” Kara says. “And being in Barcelona and Paris and Fiji is helping with that?”

Cat smirks at her. “You’ve been keeping up with me, have you?” She continues before Kara can respond. “And don’t sound so bitter. Lord knows you’ve built up enough vacation time you could go anywhere you wanted for months, probably.”

“I’m not jealous of your _vacation_ ,” Kara says, even though she knows she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t say anything. Her hands are clean and dry, she should go back to the party. She keeps talking anyway. “I just don’t know why you had to push me into a new job and then just _leave_.”

Cat raises her eyebrows, looks impressed rather than mad. “You’ve gained some backbone working for Snapper, have you?”

Kara scoffs. As though she didn’t have backbone working for Cat. She was the only one who stood up to Cat, ever; Kara knows that, no matter how Cat brushes it off or belittles her. She’s the only one who fought back against Cat, and she’s ready to do it now.

But then Cat says, “Surprising you fled here, Kara,” and takes a step closer again, and Kara swallows. “The one place only _I_ would find you,” Cat says. “Almost like you wanted to be found.”

Kara’s emotions are all over the place. She’s mad Cat left, and she’s mad Cat came back like it’s no big deal. But she _missed_ her, she did. She missed her as a mentor— because there’s no one else who pushes her the way Cat does, who makes her better, makes her live up to standards she didn’t realize she could reach— and she missed her just as a person. She missed the way her hair brushes the tops of her shoulders, missed the way she hides her smiles, even though Kara can always see them anyway.

Maybe Kara did want to be found. Maybe she did, but she never expected Cat to follow her. Cat left a party to chase her down. She hasn’t seen Cat in three months, but Cat’s here, now, so close to her, and the door is locked. Notes of White Christmas drift through the walls— Kara doesn’t need her supersenses to hear it, and she remembers this isn’t as private as it seems.

She leans back against the counter anyway, shuffles toward Cat. Cat doesn’t smile, exactly, but she lifts her chin like she’s won. She lifts her chin, and it puts her mouth _right there_ and it doesn’t take anything for Kara to close the distance.

Kissing Cat is nothing like she imagined, actually. Cat isn’t demanding; she’s _gentle_. She is so soft and Kara just melts, she might actually slide to the floor if Cat didn’t catch her by her hip. Kara feels like she’s drunk— she knows what that feels like now, and it feels just like this: like she’s floating, like she might actually be hovering three feet in the air. Cat’s mouth on hers and Cat’s hand on her hip are the only anchors keeping her on the ground.

Kara breaks the kiss. She can barely catch her breath enough to say, “Cat, I—”

“Have wanted to do this since I hired you?” Cat says, and Kara isn’t surprised when she opens her eyes to see Cat’s smirk. “I know.”

Cat pushes Kara harder against the counter. It digs into her back and Kara boosts herself onto it without much thought. Cat grins, absolutely predatory, and steps close. Kara parts her legs and Cat’s grin goes feral.

It’s not true, actually. Kara hasn’t wanted to do this since Cat hired her— it took a while, took getting to know her for Kara to want to kiss her. At first she was Miss Grant, Queen of All Media, most powerful person in National City. It took time for Kara to get to know that she wasn’t all terrible, that she was strong and smart and even if she wasn’t always great to her employees, she would ruin anyone else who was rude to them. Cat cares, a lot, actually, and once Kara figured that out— well, that’s when the whole wanting to kiss her started. It wasn’t right away.

Not that it matters, really, when it started, because it’s _happening_ now, actual _kissing_ is happening, and Kara is glad the counter is solid beneath her, because she really might be a puddle otherwise. Cat’s mouth is so warm. She trails kisses up Kara’s jaw to her ear.

“I’ve wanted to, too,” she says, and slides her hands up Kara’s thighs.

Kara’s entire body shudders. This can’t be happening. But Cat’s hands keep moving as she mouths at Kara’s neck, and Kara doesn’t stop her. Kara doesn’t stop her at all, she leans forward instead, into her, and when Cat’s hands get to her panties, Kara lifts her hips.

“Kara,” Cat’s breath is hot in Kara’s ear. “This is—”

“What I want,” Kara pants. “What I’ve wanted.”

It’s enough for Cat, apparently, because she tugs Kara’s panties down. She doesn’t even push them all the way off—they end up hanging around one of Kara’s ankles. Then Cat grabs two hand towels, drops them on the ground. Kara doesn’t understand what’s happening until Cat _kneels_ , Cat Grant kneels in front of her, one knee on each towel, pulls Kara’s hips to the edge of the counter, and smirks up at her.

When Cat puts her mouth on her, Kara falls backward. Her head hits the mirror and it might be hard enough to crack it, but she can’t be bothered to check. She gets her arms behind her to lean on, barely holds herself up. Cat’s tongue moves slowly, almost lazily. She takes her time. Kara tries not to whine for more.

Cat curls her tongue around Kara’s clit like Kara had asked anyway. Kara’s hips come off the counter to get closer. She can’t feel Cat’s smirk, but she’s sure it’s there, sure Cat is smug about how good she is at this.

Kara slips her hand into Cat’s hair, because she wants to, because she can, because she has to do it before she’s too close, when she knows she’s still in control. She makes a fist, tugs gently. Cat’s hands clench on Kara’s thighs, and she slides her tongue inside Kara, like a reward. Kara keens.

This is— this is what she expected it’d be like with Cat. Cat is _thorough_ and _relentless_. Kara thinks she must have more than one tongue, because she feels it everywhere. Kara can’t keep track— inside her, around her clit, tracing her opening. It feels like Cat is pushing to get closer, to taste more, and the thought makes Kara shake. Too soon, she has to release her grip on Cat’s hair because she no longer trusts herself. She balls her hands into fists instead.

Kara tries to think of other things. She wants this to last, to last and to last and to last, and so she thinks of baseball, thinks of Eliza’s disapproving tone when she and Alex did something wrong as kids. She listens to see if anyone is nearby, hears nothing but All I Want for Christmas is You coming from the party. She’s so blind with lust and pleasure it sounds like she’s listening from underwater.

Kara can’t think of anything she wants for Christmas more than this, more than something she never thought she’d get. She opens her eyes but slams them closed when the sight of Cat’s face buried between her legs is too much. She’s clenching around nothing, again and again, and Cat must notice, or just _know_ , just know exactly what she needs, because she lets go of one of Kara’s thighs to slide her fingers inside her instead.

Kara comes without warning. She can’t help it. Mariah Carey is singing that she won’t even wish for snow and Cat is on her knees, her tongue on Kara’s clit and two fingers inside her, in the private bathroom at the Catco holiday party, and Kara comes. She digs her nails into her palms, doesn’t let herself do anything else, doesn’t take the chance that she might break something. She can’t stop the way she gasps _Cat_ and she knows she doesn’t imagine how that makes Cat pump her fingers harder.

Kara comes, again, or maybe still, biting her knuckles to stay quiet.

Kara doesn’t know how long she comes. It’s a different song, she notices, when Cat’s fingers slip out of her. She whines at the loss. Cat chuckles, and it’s this deep rich sound Kara doesn’t think she’s ever heard before. Kara looks at her, back on her feet and smirking, and yeah, there’s nothing Kara wants for Christmas more than this.

Cat uses a clean hand towel to wipe her mouth, and Kara closes her eyes. Everything Cat does is too much for her.

“Do you understand why I’m not coming back now?” Cat asks.

“No,” Kara says, breathless. Because she doesn’t. She doesn’t understand why Cat isn’t coming back, doesn’t understand why she’s asking, doesn’t understand why she and Cat didn’t do that before she ever left, didn’t do it months ago, years, even.

“You should be diving, Kara,” Cat says. “You don’t need me to distract you.”

That’s ridiculous, Kara is pretty sure, but she still doesn’t quite have her breath back, so it takes her a moment to respond.

Cat’s already put back together by the time Kara opens her eyes. Her hair makeup is perfect; there’s not a hair out of place. Kara wants to mess her up again.

Kara pulls her panties back up and slides off the counter. The mirror isn’t broken, thankfully, nothing is, though she’s got indents in her palms from her nails.

“No,” Kara says, and Cat raises an eyebrow at her. “You can be gone for any number of reasons— good reasons— but you don’t get to use me as one.”

Cat purses her lips. “You sure did grow a backbone with Snapper.”

“No, Cat—” And it feels weird calling her that, but there’s no way Kara is calling her Miss Grant right now. “That was you. You’re the one who helped me grow a backbone. You’re the one who convinced me I could do more than I thought I could. You don’t _distract_ me— except, okay, maybe there were a couple of times when you crossed your legs and your dress—” Cat smirks, and Kara refocuses. “That’s not the point. You don’t get to use distracting me as a reason you’re gone. I’m better with you around.”

Cat stares at her. Kara’s still breathing hard.

“We should go back to the party,” Cat says. “People will notice we’re gone.”

Kara sighs. Right. Of course this doesn’t change anything.

Cat checks her hair in the mirror again.

“I’ll be in National City through the New Year,” she says, nonchalant.

Kara bites her lip, tries not to let herself grin.

“We should get back to the party, Miss Grant,” Kara says.

Cat looks at her, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.  

“I liked it better when you called me Cat.” 

-


End file.
